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The campground at Las Glorias was wonderful. It was right on the beautiful Sea of Cortez and we thoroughly enjoyed our two nights there. The weather was finally warm and sunny with highs in the mid to upper 70s. The skies were a vivid blue. Life was good. We had a free day on Monday, February 12 so we just took it easy and reflected on Jerry’s mom who was born on this day. That afternoon, Bob Kaskell (Idaho), Jerry and I drove down the beach so the "boys" could run REVO, Jerry’s gas-powered 4-wheel drive monster truck. Needless to say, we drew a crowd of nice young Mexican men who just wanted to watch. When one of them asked how much the truck cost, I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it cost more than he could probably earn in a month. Ah, the blessings of living in America.

That evening, we had another group dinner in the open air dining room at the Las Glorias campground/motel. It was fabulous featuring several renditions of shrimp (wrapped in bacon, broiled, butterflied and fried, marinated – you name it and they served it) and baked sea bass. Jerry and I agreed that it was one of the best meals on the trip. So did the campground dog who got half of our table’s portion. Later that evening, Dan Begy and Bob Kaskel built a huge fire on the beach and we all gathered around for fellowship. Bob had brought some wood from Idaho and we chipped in a bundle of Ozark oak. There was lots of laughter and a night to remember. And, of course, the campground dog snuggled between Jerry and my chairs so we got lots of puppy-dog time that night – always good when you’re a dogless dog-lover.

We left the campground at 7:30 Tuesday morning, February 13 headed for Mazatlan (mah-saht’-lahn) on the Pacific Ocean. Driving down the coast, we are reminded that there are no restrictions on Mexican roads – there are burros and horses and cattle grazing on the sides of the highway and many people travel on the highways by bicycle. Drivers must use great caution on all the roads, even the toll roads, which we mostly used. Tolls were expensive on the coast. During the 242 mile drive from Guasave south to Mazatlan, we paid five tolls, totaling 898 pesos (about $84 US) – that’s 35 cents a mile and the road wasn’t even very good! But when we reached Mazatlan, we agreed that it was worth every penny. What a beautiful city! During that stretch, we passed the Tropic of Cancer.

We settled into the Playa Escondida RV Park where we would stay for five nights. We were thrilled that we would have several free days here. Upon arrival, we made arrangements for our laundry to be done (yea – no laundromat!), our truck to be washed, and our water tank filled, all without leaving the campground. This campground was amazing. Adventure Caravans (the company leading our tour) has "coordinators" who live in this campground all winter to handle details of the Adventure groups that are visiting Mazatlan. They had arranged for just about anything we could ask for. There was a shrimp merchant who filled orders and delivered cleaned shrimp to the campground for $9.30 a kilo (about two pounds). Laundry was $4.00 a load, picked up, washed, dried, folded and returned. Water and propane trucks filled tanks on site. I even had a pedicure in Bubba! We had Bubba washed and hand-waxed for $50 – unbelievable. A repairman made rounds and patched chipped windshields. They even had an on-site body repair shop for dent and scratch repair. That came in handy for Carl. Back in Creel, he had pulled into a gas station and took half of it with him when he left – just like most motorhome owners have done at least once (Linebargers included!). After these guys finished with Carl’s rig, it looked like new. Carl and Cheryl were lucky in that Carl has a time share at Torres Mazatlan, just down the road from our campground, so he and Cheryl stayed there while the rig was being repaired. It was a beautiful complex with highly manicured grounds, a pristine beach and a nice restaurant – all of which we took advantage of during our visits with them. While they stayed at the condo, we kept Bucephalus and Buckeye in our motorhome. They are such sweet and beautiful dogs and it was nice to have another "dog-fix".

On Wednesday, February 14 Jerry and I each awoke to surprise Valentine’s Day cards and knew it would be a good day. We loaded onto a bus for a tour of the city and breakfast at a hotel in the Gold Zone. It was a beautiful open-air dining room that opened right out onto the beach and the beautiful Pacific Ocean. The food was delicious and plentiful.

Our guide for the city tour was "Chilly Willy", a young guy who tried really hard to be funny but didn’t quite have it. We did learn that Mazatlan has a population of 650,000 and 29,000 hotel rooms. It is a beautiful, spotlessly clean city that thrives on tourism and works hard to make gringos feel welcome. English is spoken everywhere and all the shops quote prices in US dollars. You don’t need pesos to visit this city. One of our stops was at a jewelry store that specializes in "fine" silver. A few people did make purchases though most of us found the prices too high. However, they did serve free beer and margaritas to the customers so that made the stop bearable for the guys.

February is the coldest month of the year with an all-time recorded low of 55 degrees. It is also the windiest month. Winter is definitely the time to be here as, in summer, it reaches 110-125 degrees with high humidity.

Mazatlan’s Mardi Gras celebration had already begun and would continue through Fat Tuesday next week. There were beer booths and entertainment stages set up all over town and we were told that this is one of the bigger celebrations behind Rio and New Orleans. Mazatlan is the home, and one-and-only manufacturing location, of Pacifico Beer. Employing 25,000 people, they had the biggest presence among Carnival sponsors. They make 375,000 cases of beer a day at this plant. We have seen much evidence on this trip that the Mexicans love their beer.

While in the Gold Zone, we visited the oldest bakery in the city, along with the lovely Melville Hotel and the beautiful 1869 Opera House that seats 800 people. Chilly Willy was raised and attended school in this old neighborhood and he seemed proud that much effort had gone into renovating the buildings. The area seemed vibrant and alive. Everywhere we looked, the city was clean and well-maintained with many plazas and beautiful green spaces.

We then visited the Cathedral which was destroyed in the 1870’s. The people of Mazatlan did not have enough money to rebuild it so the Jewish community in town donated money to help them. In honor of their generosity, there is a Star of David in each of the church’s 28 stained glass windows. Inside, there are eight stone pillars that create multiple beautiful arches overhead. There is gold inlay throughout the 60-foot high ceiling. Seating capacity is about 400 and yet there are 11 masses held here every Sunday. Jerry and I both agreed that this is one of the most beautiful churches we have ever visited. It is well – lighted with open windows on the sides, making it comfortable and breezy. It is immaculate in every respect and is the home base for the Bishop. We returned to the campground and later that afternoon, the Adventure coordinators prepared a shrimp boil for us and we all brought dishes to complete the meal.

Thursday, February 15 was a quiet day for us as we decided to skip the country bus tour to Copala and Concordia and the visit to the brick and pottery artists. We had had it with tours by now! Jerry, Carl and Cheryl made a run to Wal-Mart for groceries but I stayed behind to rest up.

Friday morning, we had breakfast at Torres Mazatlan then Cheryl and I went downtown for a little shopping while Jerry and Carl walked around a bit. We were to meet up later at Casa Country, a local restaurant. However, by the time Cheryl and I got there, Carl had given up on us and gone back to the condo. But sweet Jerry was at Casa Country, just as he said he would be, waiting patiently. No wonder I’ve kept him for 30 years! We returned to the motorhome to rest up a bit then, that evening, went back to Torres Mazatlan for dinner.

Saturday morning, Rex and Penny, Carl and Cheryl, and Jerry and I went back to the plaza located near the Opera House in the Gold Zone for lunch. The plaza was full of entertainers and beautifully decorated for Carnival Mazatlan. We had a delightful lunch at La Tramoya and enjoyed the music and the sights. It was here that we met Julio (Hoo’-leo) and his mom and dad from Toronto. Julio is a 12-pound Deer Head Chihuahua – the cutest and sweetest little guy we ever met! His parents own homes in Honolulu and Florida and are building another new house in Mazatlan. I’d say Julio is a pampered pooch!

We caught a hoptack (a small Volkswagen surry-like taxi) back to the campground and rested up for our Fiesta Mexican dinner and show that evening. Held at the Playa Mazatlan hotel, it was an evening filled with dancing and entertainment.

Sunday morning, February 18, we awoke early and gathered for a travel briefing before we packed up and headed back to Los Mochis for the evening. We said our goodbyes to Bob and Netty, Don and Marly, and Nancy and Howard who would all be leaving the group today. Nancy and Howard are headed back home to Ontario while the others are going further south into Mexico for a couple of weeks.

We had an uneventful trip back to Los Mochis passing through many farms with acres and acres of corn and tomatoes. It was an interesting night, as there are no campgrounds in Los Mochis so we spent the night in a fenced parking lot behind a Pemex truck stop and gas station. But, in spite of the location, it was a fun evening in that we had a potluck hors d’oeuvres party and we each shared the story of how we met our significant others. There were lots of laughs.

Monday morning, we arose at 5:00 to prepare for our 7:00 departure for San Carlos. This would be our last stop on the tour. It was a foggy morning – the first we’ve seen on the whole trip. We encountered a heavily staffed and armed military checkpoint on this stretch but we were waved through again without stopping. Interestingly, the soldiers were searching all truck trailers that came through. We also went through two fruit checkpoints between Mazatlan and San Carlos and found that there seemed to be no pattern to what they were looking for. The day before, they took our apples and oranges but didn’t take Cheryl’s apples. On this day, they took our lemons but not our limes yet they took Penny’s tangerines but not her lemons . . . go figure.

The campground at San Carlos and the entire area was absolutely beautiful. There has been much growth here in recent years, mostly because of Americans and Canadians moving here. On the Sea of Cortez, the setting is breathtaking. In fact, it is so beautiful that we, along with the Lee/Lanes, decided to stay on until Saturday, instead of leaving with the tour group on Thursday.

On Tuesday, the group visited a cultured pearl farm/factory where we learned about the process of producing pearls from rainbow-lipped oysters, native to the Sea of Cortez. This farm has 250,000 pearls under cultivation at any given time and, from these, they produce about 10,000 pearls each year, exported primarily to Hong Kong and the US. To begin the process of cultivating a half pearl with a flat side for use in rings and pendants, a synthetic object is surgically placed inside the oyster. Around each implant, an irregular-shaped flat-backed pearl will form. To make round pearls, they must cut a slit in a section of the reproductive system and implant a piece of Mississippi mussel shell into it. Around this shell, a round pearl will form. Once implanted, the oysters are placed in racks and lowered into the water then removed temporarily for cleaning every 3 months. It takes six years for the implants within the oyster to form a marketable pearl and, when harvested, the oysters die. The rainbow-lipped oysters produce a variety of different colors of pearls but none of them are traditional white pearls. An interesting note: Natural pearls occur in only one of 10,000 oysters. Unfortunately, you have to kill all 10,000 to find that one.

Tuesday afternoon, we boarded a boat from Gary’s Dive Shop at the Edificio Marina San Carlos for a two-hour cruise of the beautiful bay with its emerald green, crystal clear water. The beaches are interspersed with the rugged mountains around San Carlos making it a picturesque setting for the many homes around the bay. There are lots of birds in the area – so many that one of the mountains in the bay is white with bird poop – they call it Mexican snow. It was a beautiful day but cool and a little windy. However, that didn’t stop our crazy wagonmaster from answering a dare and jumping in for a swim.

February 20 was a quiet day with no planned activities other than a potluck breakfast at Penny and Rex’s rig so those who were crossing the border the next morning could use up all their eggs and pork products. You see, you can’t bring eggs, pork or chicken back into the USA, even if they were purchased in the states and had been in the freezer the whole time. Makes no sense to me but it’s the law. Later that day, we took a drive around the area with Carl and Cheryl to look at a couple of pieces of property they were considering buying.

That evening, we gathered at the Best Western for a traditional Mexico farewell dinner and a chance to bid our good-byes to each other. There were speeches and hugs and promises to keep in touch among the group.

We gathered outside at 6:20 Thursday morning, February 22 so we could have a few minutes to say our final goodbyes and see the caravan off at 7:00. We, along with Carl and Cheryl, had decided to stay behind for two more nights before crossing the border at Nogales, AZ. We had lunch at La Palapa, an open air restaurant on the beach, where we met Popeye and Bella, two precious Chihuahuas that belong to the owner and are the king and queen of the property.

Dan and Carol, our Tailgunners, left their rig at the campground and followed the caravan to the border in their tow car, planning to return to San Carlos either that night or the next day. They had to be back in Los Mochis by the following Tuesday to pick up eight rigs and escort them across the border with a couple of stops along the way. At 262 miles to the border, we didn’t expect them to get back that night but at 7:30, they rolled into the campground. We invited them to join us for dinner at the Lee/Lane rig and we shared our steaks and trimmings with them.

Friday was a day of preparation for crossing the border that would begin with one more "community" breakfast for disposal of more pork and eggs. And whatever was left would be donated to Carol and Dan since they weren’t leaving the country yet. The six of us had a final dinner together, too, with shrimp, hamburgers, and spaghetti – what a combination! We laughed a lot and made an interesting connection before the evening was over. Carl used to live in San Francisco and was a frequent customer at Perry’s on Union Street, a restaurant and bar. Perry’s was also a regular hangout for Jerry’s brother and wife, Jim and Sally, since Jim’s architectural firm was located on Union Street. In fact, Jim was the architect for Perry’s Union Street remodel and for Perry’s Mill Valley location, as well. Though neither Jim nor Carl know each other by name, we’re betting that they would recognize each other if they were face to face. Small world. Before the evening was over, Carl had rounded up a Perry’s tee shirt and presented it to Jerry.

We left the campground Saturday and, I have to admit, there were tears. Meeting and spending time with the Begys and the Lee/Lanes had been a wonderful gift. We knew that we had made new friends that would last a lifetime. We pulled out of the campground around 8:00 with Carl and Cheryl as the Wagonmasters and Jerry and I as the Tailgunners. Sure enough, the Tailgunners had immediate work to do as one of the bay doors Carl had had repaired in Mazatlan came open and wouldn’t stay shut. But old Jer got out his toolbox and fixed it right away. (In case I haven’t mentioned it, Carl is not mechanically inclined.) Then, we were off . . . headed for the border on yet another beautiful day in gay, romantic old Mexico.

We traveled through Hermasillo, another really nice and prosperous Mexican town, stopping at a large Pemex station just before Santa Ana to share a leftover spaghetti lunch with Carl and Cheryl in their rig. Believe it or not, it was at this stop that Carl and Cheryl had their first ever Moon Pies. Boy, have they led sheltered lives!

We made it through the border about 3:30 with no problems. We did have an official come on board and we had to give up our potatoes (they can’t be brought back in the US, either). But, this peace offering seemed to satisfy them so they didn’t dig around and find the Petit Jean ham, sausage and bacon that I had hidden – there was no way I was going to give up my Petit Jean . . . rules or no rules! It was an easy crossing - they didn’t even ask if we were US citizens, much less ask to see our passports. Carl said he wasn’t surprised – nobody could fake accents like ours.

Yes, it was good to be "home". Seeing the American flag flying high almost brought tears as we reflected on how very fortunate we are to be Americans. We had a wonderful time in Mexico. It is a beautiful country and we are so happy that we took this trip. We had no incidents that would cause us to feel uncomfortable or unsafe. The Mexican and Indian people we met along the way were warm, friendly, and gracious. Our trip could not have been better. But we were glad to be back on American soil.

Interestingly, there was no sign signifying where the border actually was at Nogales. There wasn’t even a "Welcome to the USA" sign. But we knew we were home by the quality of the roads and the signs of prosperity. We had been out of the country for 30 days. We had made new friends and seen new sights. We had made memories that would last a lifetime. But no matter where we had been or what we had seen or how wonderful it was, Dorothy was right as she clicked her red shoes – "There’s no place like home . . . there’s no place like home . . . there’s no place like home . . ."

Happy trails to you . . . til we meet again.